


Third Time's the Charm

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, I hate looking at 2017 writings, This Sucks Tho, but friend wanted me to post, cuteness, ig this is all I wrote in 2017, just cuteness, so ig, soft, wouldn't hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23441698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: If you meet three times in the same day, then Fate is basically pushing you together, right?
Relationships: Jean Kirstein/Reader, Jean Kirstein/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	Third Time's the Charm

Jean stretches languidly as he walks, pulling his arms above his head and yawning loudly. Letting his right arm fall to his side and bringing the left up, he glances at the time, panicking when he sees there’s only a few minutes left till his bus arrives. He breaks out into a sprint then, copper-ash hair waving in the wind as he frantically tries not to miss his bus. He makes it just in time, getting on the familiar blue and yellow bus that would lead him to the restaurant a few blocks away, where he worked as a part-timer. 

After paying for his ticket, he walks along the bus until he sees a free silver pole, grabbing it for support, left hand wrapping around it firmly. He sags against the pole a little, catching his breath as he runs his right hand through his hair to try to pat it down and make it presentable. He repeats this motion a few more time, but it seems his hair is in the mood to be stubborn today, because it just won’t flatten down. He ruffles it in frustration, which only ends up making it even more messier.

Giving up, he sighs and proceeds to rummage around in the pockets of his jacket for his phone. He stops when he hears a laugh from his right, a sweet bubbly sound that makes his heart soar unexpectedly. Looking up at the source, he’s pleasantly surprised to see a smiling girl with (H/C) hair gripping the pole next to his own. She’s dressed in a neat, black pencil skirt and a white blouse, her hands drumming rhythm upon rhythm onto the pole she’s clutching, and her hands, Jean can’t help but notice, are a soft shade of (S/C).

He hears the laugh again, and golden eyes snap up from their careful studying of her hands to her face, before an amused voice cuts through the rattling of the bus and the slightly noisy chatter of the people on board. “Isn’t it rude to stare at people, and weirder even when you stare at their hand? Do you have a hand fetish maybe?” A teasing smile is playing on the girl’s pink tinted lips as she looks at him, one eyebrow cocked, mirth shining in beautiful (e/c) eyes.

His cheeks heat up a little, embarrassed at being caught, but he recovers, adopting his signature pick-up posture and smirk™. “Should you really be saying that though? I mean, you were staring at me earlier, weren’t you?” It’s her turn to be embarrassed now, a pale rose colour painting her cheeks. Despite the very visible blush, she acknowledges that she was, but there’s a challenging tone to her next words as she says, “But maybe you were just that amusing to look at, huh?” Jean takes it in stride, playing off of it and leaning a little closer as he says, “Or maybe I was just that handsome.” He winks at her, smiling roguishly. The young woman next to him laughs that laugh again, hand on her mouth as her shoulders shake at his supposedly suave flirting. He watches her laugh almost wondrously, because right in that moment, she looks _ethereal_ , this woman he’s never met before. She’s hunched over as she laughs, soft morning sunlight streaming in from the windows of the bus, giving her an otherworldly halo.

She’s stopped laughing now, his mind registers a little late, and is looking at him, head cocked to the side as if waiting for him to say something, (e/c) eyes shining with an emotion he can’t quite place. He decides to ask for her name, but at that exact moment, the bus screeches to a stop, and neon words dance overhead, indicating a stop. The unrecognisable emotion in her eyes is replaced with recognition and she tells him a soft goodbye and moves toward the exit, waving back at him.

Before his legs can catch up with his mind, he’s lost her behind the crowds of people swarming to get off of the bus.

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You sigh tiredly as you brush some lint off your pencil skirt, leaning back into the office chair you’re sitting on. After filing records and reading through reports all morning, you desperately want a relaxing break and warm food. Closing your eyes for a minute, you allow your mind to wander and your train of thoughts eventually lead you to think about the young man you had met on the bus this morning. He had been dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, with a black jacket thrown on. He had been pretty handsome, copper-ash hair, shining brown eyes, and an adorable smile. 

You blush slightly when you think of the flirting that had taken place this morning. Your fingers are unconsciously tapping out rhythms once more as you wonder if you’ll meet him again. And it is only now that you realize none of you had exchanged contact information, let alone names. You slap a hand onto your forehead in exasperation. This could have been your chance! To finally start dating again. Your life has finally fallen into a comfortable routine, and you had been thinking of jumping back into the dating game again. You hadn’t dated in a long time, because you had wanted to focus on making a name for yourself at your workplace first. 

Now that you were finally ready, this could have been the perfect opportunity! You groan in vexation, slinking further down into your chair. You stay like that for a moment, just revelling in the streaks of afternoon sunlight filtering in through your blinds. After a few minutes pass, you shake your head to clear your mind from the thoughts plaguing it, and then sit up, stretching to work out the kinks in your muscles, sore from sitting in the office chair for the better part of the morning. You stand up a little reluctantly, and after telling your boss you were taking your lunch break, you walk toward the little cafe on the corner of the street where your office was located. 

The café is a cosy little establishment, and is one that you frequent often. It offers various assortments of sandwiches, pastries and a variety of warm drinks. While standing in line, you look around the café, taking in the familiar pastel paintings on the wall, the round brown coffee tables, mahogany wooden chairs and cream-coloured sofas, just relishing in the warm, homey vibe it all gave off. Your eyes leisurely roam over the different people in the café, nodding to co-workers, smiling at other regulars and waving at the barista at the counter from your spot in line. You’re a regular here, so you and Rose, the barista who works at this time, are good friends. It’s almost your turn, so you pause in your reconnaissance of the café and instead face toward the front, taking out your wallet and getting ready to order.

Someone taps you on the shoulder suddenly, and you turn around to see the young man you had met on the bus that morning. “Hey!” He exclaims, “You’re the girl from the bus!” “Hi there, boy from the bus!” You say, feeling giddy at the fact that you met him again. But you wonder why you’ve never seen him here before, and ask him why he suddenly showed up today. He explains it’s because his usual lunch place was closed, and this was the one nearest. Your conversation is cut short when Rose leans over from behind the counter and taps you on the arm, signalling it’s your turn to order.

Before you can order though, she whispers, not exactly quietly,” So who’s the hottie you got there?” You blush a horrible red and smack her on the arm softly, “Rose, keep it down! But…I agree, he is pretty cute.” You’re almost 96% sure he heard you, but you don’t have the courage to turn around and look at the smug expression you’re somehow sure he must be making. Your effort to pass this over is in vain though, because he leans forward a little, breath just barely grazing over your ear as he says, “Thanks, you’re cute too!” You blush harder as he leans back, which you didn’t even think was possible. Rose is laughing loudly, not just at you, but at the fact that mystery man is also blushing. She keeps it to herself, grinning at him as he smiles back at her sheepishly. 

You order hurriedly, managing not to stammer as your blush gradually dies down. Having ordered a fresh chicken sandwich and a cappuccino, you wait for him as he orders a croissant and a scone, along with a latte. He goes on to tell Rose to put both orders on his tab, saying he would pay for you as well. You protest hotly, “I can pay for myself, y’know!” He turns around and smirks again, eyes glinting in self-assurance, pearly whites exposed as he says,” A gentleman always pays for the lady on the first date. You can pay for us next time.”

“Oh?” You say, raising your eyebrows mockingly, “And what makes you think there will be a next time?” “Well, at least you’re not denying it’s a date, so that counts for something, right?” He quips. “You’re too cocky for your own good.” You reply, shaking your head while grinning. He winks and lays a hand on the small of your back —and you shiver, his fingers feel very warm— leading you to one of the two-person tables that were scattered around the cafe. 

“So,” He starts off as you both settle down into your seats. “What do I have to do to get your name and number, hmm?” You’ve thought this over in the time he was ordering, and you’ve decided that if it’s really meant to be, you’ll see him again today. You’re not an especially big believer in Fate, but it has been kind to you lately, so you decide to put your trust in it for once. “If Fate allows us to meet for a third time, I’ll grace you with the knowledge of knowing my name and number and maybe then I’ll learn yours too. After all, third time’s the charm.” You say, resting your head on your right palm as you wait for his reaction. “That’s not fair.” He pouts, pale gold eyes gazing at you pleadingly. You giggle at his pouting expression, because he looks adorably cute. He seems to accept it when you don’t give in and after telling you you’re too cruel, lets it go. The rest of your conversation is spent in light-hearted chatter and cheerful laughter. 

You’ve never felt so at ease with someone you’ve literally just met that day, and you’d be a liar if you say you don’t like him. Because you do, very much. Before parting ways, he kisses the back of your hand, saying,” I shall see you again sometime this day, milady.” “You’re so corny.” You roll your eyes, trying your best to keep the smile on your face from showing, but failing anyway. “That’s me.” He winks charmingly, giving you one more blazing look, and you blush softly under his intense gaze, feeling incredibly warm. And then he’s gone, lost in the crowded streets of Shinganshina.

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You sigh exasperatedly as your friend and roommate, Jennie, interrogates you about the man you had met on the bus. “Jeez, Jennie! Drop it!” you say, rubbing your temples to help sate the increasing headache as a result of Jennie’s non-stop questioning. She finally acquiesces, but not without a condition, “Alright, alright, but you have to go with me to the bar on the street!” You complain that it would require too much effort, and you’re tired and you really can’t be bothered. Jennie rolls her eyes before exclaiming excitedly, “You might meet the same man. You will meet the same man. It’s Fate!” She finishes, fuchsia eyes gleaming. Normally, you wouldn’t give in, but you really do want to see if you’ll meet mystery man again, although you _had_ been hoping he would show up on your street or something. 

Thinking it over, you realize there’s little to no chance of that happening, since you haven’t seen him around before. So your best bet could be try this new bar Jennie wanted to go to. You agree, but not before warning her that your clothes need to be comfortable. She looks surprised at your agreement, but grins widely and rushes to your shared closet to pick out out your outfit. Jennie returns with your dress in a matter of seconds, a red halter neck dress that went to just below the knees, along with a pair of red velvet pumps. It’s pretty and comfortable, just the way you like it. Noticing your satisfied expression, Jennie puts a hand on her hips and says, “There’s a reason we’re friends, you know.”

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Jean clears his throat nervously, swallowing the lump that had been forming in his throat abruptly. He holds his guitar firmly as his eyes scan the crowd, hoping to somehow see you there. As he steps out onto the stage, ready to start singing, he sees a flash of red and (h/c) at the entrance and turns toward it. You look absolutely breath-taking in that dress, with the club lights dancing around and on you, highlighting your features flatteringly. He gulps, his nervousness increasing tenfold, the pressure of wanting to impress you weighing on his mind. He lets out a deep breath, his posture straightening as confidence takes over and begins. 

After his performance is over, he makes his way over to you almost immediately, weaving in between the crowd effortlessly. “Hi.” He breathes, eyes glued to you. “Hey.” You say breathlessly, because he’s standing unbearably close. “Mind telling me your name now?” he asks. “You first.” You wink playfully, and his cheeks heat up a little as he tells you his name. “Jean Kirschtein.” You repeat, liking the way the name rolls off your tongue, “I’m (Name) Jaeger.” His eyes are wide in shock as he asks incredulously, “Wait, what? You’re related to _Eren_ Jaeger?” 

"Yeah, I’m his cousin. Wait, _you’re_ the Jean he keeps on mentioning? The one he calls horseface?” You ask, grinning when he blushes and scowls. "Damn Jaeger, keeping you away from me.” Jean mutters under his breath, unaware that you heard. You’re well aware of Eren’s nickname around his friends, so you decide to tease him a little, a smile stretching across your face as you ask, "So even if I’m related to the ‘suicidal maniac’, you still wanna date me?” You ask, a grin stretching across your face. "I mean, you still have to pay for me.” He smiles as you laugh and agree and the rest of the night is spent in his company, goofing around and making plans for future dates.

**Author's Note:**

> =>> do not repost anywhere without permission, because as of now, I haven't given it
> 
> \--> thanks for reading!!
> 
> [ insta ](https://www.instagram.com/verumsolatium/)


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